Subtitle: I don’t want to talk about my allergies.

  1. Blood test is, um, VERY SUGGESTIVE that I may have allergies. Not a surprise. My primary care doctor wants me to see the allergist! I agree because, fine, whatever. OK, I have reasons, but they are subtle and possibly not the best reasons.

  2. Nutella is delicious.

  3. The hackberry tree does not grow in San Diego. Hardly any plants grow in San Diego. This is a desert.

  4. This whole situation needs to be dealt with quickly. At this point I need the story in my chart to be short and uneventful. It is very suggestive that I may have allergies! I did have allergies in the past, and they bothered me in the past. Now I take Allegra. My allergies do not bother me. There is certainly no reason to worry that I might stop breathing or anything like that.

  5. Other allergens?

    Now I sat in the waiting room. And the nurses came to me, saying, “You also have cats.” But I denied it before them all, saying, “I do not know what you are saying.” And when I had gone into the exam room, another nurse saw me and said to those who were there, “You have cats.” But again I denied with an oath, “I do not have any cats!” And a little later the doctor said to me, “Surely you have cats, for the fur on your clothing betrays you.” Then I began to curse and swear, saying, “I do not have cats!” Immediately a rooster crowed.

  6. There is a sharps container on top of my refrigerator. It contains more Aimovig injectors than I want to count and two Epi-pens that expired years ago but that I didn’t want to throw in the regular trash.

  7. Step 1: Records have been ordered from the allergist in Knoxville. I have printed off my own logs of five years of allergy shots. I had allergies. I was tested for them. I got allergy shots. They are no longer a problem.

  8. Step 2: I have been trying very hard to avoid getting sick because it is harder to support the “nothing is wrong” narrative when you are sick. When I remember, I have been defaulting to fist-bumps instead of handshakes when meeting new people in professional situations. I don’t care if they think I’m weird. It’s very important for me to not be sick when I see the doctor.

  9. Step 3: Sitting on the couch (which I do a lot of) sets off my allergies (which I do not have) because of all the cat-spit-proteins (what cats?). I keep meaning to vacuum the couch, but I can’t because there is always a cat (entirely imaginary) sleeping on it. Sometimes two.

  10. Step 4: Roughly two days before the appointment I’m going to start taking the steroidal anti-inflammatory nasal inhaler at the maximum short-term dose. About an hour before the appointment, I’m going to take a puff of albuterol.

  11. Step 5: I need to find an amazing lint brush or lint roller. Or to find cat-fur colored and textured clothing to wear.